


Afterlife

by beelivia



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Afterlife, Angst, Death, Emotional, M/M, Religion, Suicide mention, Too Many Metaphors, little bit of mentioned dysphoria, violence mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2018-08-01
Packaged: 2019-06-19 23:46:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15521391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beelivia/pseuds/beelivia
Summary: When it's all over, Mike and Sonny meet again





	Afterlife

Sonny is freezing cold. His whole body is faintly tingly, but numb at the same time, with a sheet of ice blanketing every inch of his skin. It’s unpleasant. Not painful, he thinks, just uncomfortable. It urges him to do something, but he knows that there’s nothing left to do about his choices. Since that one day, that one damn day two years ago, everything has been mounting. Building and cresting depression, anxiety, guilt, pain. Slowly but surely, it’s become too much for him to handle.

That’s not to say that he didn’t try. He went to the counseling sessions the lieutenant asked of him. He came to mass on the Sundays he had off. He cooked for Amanda and Jesse so he didn’t have to stay home. He even took the medication that the shrink gave him in an effort to try and bring him back from the precipice he’s been sitting on for too long. Every little thing he was told might help, he tried. He really tried. Recovery was always so close, and he kept pushing for as long as he could before it became too much.

He’d shiver, but he can’t move. As the blood drips around his head and the muzzle of his police-issue glock, he’s dead but he has yet to really leave his body. Detaching is strange, he notes offhandedly. Like he’s being ripped out of his body and deposited as a clump of unhappy particles above it. Suddenly he’s outside of himself, staring down at his body and the mess he’s leaving behind for the unlucky landlord or someone in his squad to find when he doesn’t come to work. The carpet will have to replaced. Bleach can’t fix the stains. And there’s the matter of the beer bottles scattered around, some newer than others, drenching the apartment with their stale stench. His last stretch on Earth really was a dull existence.

As the world around him fizzles away as he warms up again. Like pixels on a screen, his vision slowly whites out. As his temperature climbs higher, higher, almost feverish before evening out, he gets this off feeling like he’s waiting for something. Standing alone, but still as if he’s in line. It’s chilling. But before long in the timeless void, he feels normal again and his surroundings warp to somewhere familiar. Central Park, of all places, with a clear starry sky but cool air that picks up a nice breeze across his skin.

With slight disbelief, he looks down at himself. Instead of his worn-in and dirty suit from his very last work day, he’s wearing sneakers, comfortable sweatpants, and a shirt he recognizes as one of Mike’s. He can breathe easier, too, able to take in deep breaths without the pressure of a binder against his chest. For a moment he’s afraid to investigate, in case it’s an illusion, but he gets over it and feels over his chest. Completely flat. When he lifts up his shirt just to make sure, it mirrors what he felt. There aren’t even any scars to show for it, just smooth skin. All his other scars are gone too; wounds sustained in the line of duty, the line from getting his appendix removed, lines from scraping his stomach along a barbed fence as a child- they’re missing.

“Amazing, isn’t it?”

At the familiar voice, Sonny jumps. It can’t be. But he’d recognize it anywhere and when he turns around, it’s Mike. He doesn’t look like he did the last time Sonny saw him. His face is warm with a healthy flush to his cheeks, and there’s no sign of the bullet that stole away his life in Munson’s house on his very last day at SVU. Instead, he looks lively and every bit the man that Sonny had been planning to ask to marry him. There are no words for this situation.

“When I woke up, I spent a lot of time just staring at my body. All of my scars were gone. Every single one. And I feel- I feel incredible. My bad arm doesn’t bother me, and I don’t get panic attacks anymore. Everything is so... good.”

“So this is...?”

Mike smiles at Sonny. He’s missed that smile so much. “Heaven, kind of,” he says gently. “So it’s a lie. You don’t go straight to hell if you don’t believe in God.”

“Lucky me,” Sonny deadpans back.

He wants to be able to sweep Mike into his arms and hug him, cover his face with kisses, drown himself in the love he’s missed, but something is holding him back. He finds it easier to hide his pain in dry humor that he regrets from the way Mike winces. Still, Mike steps towards him, reaching for an embrace that he definitely knows how much Sonny needs right now. It’s an internal struggle for too long before he lets himself be hugged and comforted. He doesn’t know when the tears came to his eyes, but they’re real now. They sink into Mike’s shoulder, soaking his shirt, but Mike is kind enough not to say anything and just rock Sonny back and forth a little.

“You used to have so much faith, Sonny. You used to believe in Him and this and everything. What happened?”

Words get caught in Sonny’s throat before he can choke out, “You left me. I didn’t- I thought- Mikey, I couldn’t believe that my- that a God would do that to me. I tried, I swear. I went to church and confession and I tried, but I couldn’t-z’

“I know. Shh, I know. You’re safe now.”

Mike rocks them back and forth soothingly for a long while. He’s warm and firm and safe, nothing if not the shelter he always was even before he was cruelly ripped away. That day has been replaying in Sonny’s head constantly since it happened. The echo of the gunshot in the unassuming neighborhood that sent swarms into Munson’s house. Ambulance sirens flashing red, white, red, white, red white over Mike’s clammy face. Angry beeping from the heart rate monitor when they were only keeping Mike alive physically in order to take him apart to save the lives of others. Even in death, he’s a hero. 

It isn’t fair that he died and Munson got to live on. It isn’t fair, it isn’t fair, it isn’t fair. It isn’t fair that Mike died. It isn’t fair that Sonny was nearly murdered by an ex-cop. It isn’t fair that Barba left. It isn’t fair that Mia was assaulted. It isn’t fair that Jules died. It isn’t fair, none of it’s fair, and Sonny doesn’t care how childish he sounds right now because he’s torn between the sadness he’s been drowning in and anger that feels righteous. 

“You have to let go of it all, babe,” Mike tells him. “I know you’re upset. I was- when I first passed, I was too. I spent a lot of time here, trying to come to terms with a lot of things. But the second you accept things as they happened, you can cross over. We leave the park, and-” he breaks off to press a brief but soothing kiss to Sonny’s temple- “We get to be at peace on the other side. I know you want to feel better, Sonny. Just let it go.”

“But Mia- the squad- the victims-”

Mike breaks the hug to hold Sonny at arms length. “You did everything you could. You were a good man. It’s time to be happy.”

He offers Sonny a hand with his palm facing up. It’s an offering. And for some reason he can’t fathom, Sonny takes it. Instantly, he feels calmer and more at peace. Everything starts melting away like blood down the drain in his shower. Metaphorically scrubbed clean, he feels more himself than he has in a long time. With a nod, he allows Mike to lead him to cross over.

**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr is @space-carisi
> 
> [also comments make my day]


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